


Foxway Magic

by iamarosegarden



Category: the raven cycle
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Bad Writing, College AU, Multi, Slow Build, diffrent meating au, lost interest, trc, until further notice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:39:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8113186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamarosegarden/pseuds/iamarosegarden
Summary: AU In wich Adam is a psychic, Blue only lives with three psychics (at the moment), Ronan promised his brother he'd get a degree of some kind, Noah has a hard time, and Gansey is a curious thing.Discontinued until further notice.





	1. The Devil On A Card

**Author's Note:**

> Um so this is my first real fanfic. I'd appreciate constructive criticism a lot! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Adam rushed to his bus stop immediately after his shift at the restaurant was over. Hoping his bus wouldn't be late. He's naively scheduled a reading for after his shift was supposed to end, but of course Scarlet was late for her shift again. Fucking Scarlet. Of course he had to cover her shift till she got there, twenty minutes after he was supposed to be off. He wished someone would just fire Scarlet already, she’s always late and doesn’t even give the tables with kids extra napkins. Adam also knew that the manager had a crush on her so he figured it was unlikely.

Adam looked down at his his phone, 6:36, and shoved it back into his pocket. If the bus pulled up at the correct time he'd be able to make it to his appointment 6:50. Usually he'd make the twenty minute walk back to his dorm but he didn't have the time. 

He reached the bus stop and sat down on the crowded beach next to a woman with a startlingly white mane of hair and odd floral patchwork clothing who was reading a book. He refrained from leaning over to see what she was reading and put his hands in his lap. Adam's fingers worried at the edge of his shirt, running them along the hem. He reached back into his pocket and pulled his phone out again. He glanced back down at his phone when something started nudging at the back of his mind. His eyes landed on his phone and for a moment it looked like it read 25. His thoughts were nudged again. The bus is going to be twenty five minutes late. Adam blinked at his phone and it read 6:27. 

"Shit" he breathed out as he stood up to walk away from the stop. The woman sitting on the bench looked up from her book to give him an odd look. "Oh um. The bus is going to be twenty five minutes late ma'am," Adam explained without thinking. He tensed for a moment thinking she'd ask him how he knew that or tell him he was being silly. You'd be surprised by how rude people are if they don’t get an immediate explanation as to how you know something.

Instead Adam was pleasantly surprised when the woman just nodded and said "thank you, I had a feeling it was going to be late. I am so bad with numbers though," The last part of her statement seemed more to herself than him.

Adam mumbled a "You’re welcome," before he started walking away, wondering if it would be worth it to get a cab. Probably not. He didn’t exactly have the money for that anyway. Adam sighed as he started walking to the campus.

Twenty one minutes later Adam was jogging down his hallway hoping his client hadn’t left yet. As he rounded the corner he saw a short boy leaning against the wall next to his door holding a skateboard under one arm, like the woman at the bus stop he also had a surprisingly colored shock hair on his head a patchwork of blue and purple and silver that seemed almost childish. He -unlike the woman, was wearing all black, no doute designer clothing. Noah -the boy in question had tentatively come up to Adam in the cafeteria yesterday, looking a bit like an old black and white photograph besides his colorful hair, asking about a reading because as he’d stated “it seems interesting”. Of course Adam had agreed because any money helped go toward his future and the small amount he had to pay for college that wasn't covered by his scholarship. 

"Sorry I’m late, I can knock down the price if you want since you’re getting less time,” Adam offered, clipping his accent like he usually did around fellow students. He hoped Noah wouldn’t hold him to it. He fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, stepping into the dark room and flicking on the light.

“Nah man it’s okay I get it,” Noah said as he followed Adam into the room. “You room with Cheng right? Henry? Man it's so clean in here...” Noah continued to babble throughout the process of Adam getting out his cards and moving his desk out from the wall a little so they could sit opposite each other during the reading. Usually Adam would be annoyed by the steady stream of speech coming from the boy’s mouth, but Noah had an oddly endearing air about him. Like a little brother who didn’t know when to shut up, or a lecturing mother. Not that Adam every had either of those. Adam sighed as he lit a mint candle and sat down on the stool he’d squeezed between the desk and the wall. He motioned for Noah to sit. At some point he’d stopped rambling in favor for humming some pop-ish tune. Noah dropped into the chair, his hands fluttering around nervously.

“So how I do this is you’ll tell me what you’re hoping to get from the cards and I’ll think of that while shuffling. If your question is too personal and you don't want to tell me I can just think of wanting answers or guidance, but it will be clearer if you tell me. I don’t tell other people’s secrets,” Adam noticed a small smile twitch onto Noah’s face at that line. He nodded along as Adam continued. He tried his best not to slip into a monotone voice, but it was hard considering how many times he’s repeated the speech. “Then I’ll hand the cards to you and you’ll cut them. Focus on the question you’re asking as you do it. Then I’ll put down the cards in a simple spread that I will interputate for you. I work best with energy so make sure you’re focused, try to put your energy into the cards, if that makes sense,” 

“It makes sense, um, I want to know how this year will go for me…” Noah shifted in his seat.

“Okay, here we go” Adam started shuffling, throwing in a few fancy moves. Partially because he thought Noah would like it and partially because it gave him more time to focus on the answers Noah wanted. Adam handed the cards to Noah who did look vaguely impressed as he cut the cards and handed them back to Adam. Adam flicked the first card over. The Devil. He nearly flinched, remembering how many time that card popped up when he was doing his own readings. Adam fownd himself frowning as he ficked over the next card. Nine of Wands. The next one felt heavy in Adam's hand. Important. Three of cups. Adam felt his frown slip away and looked up at Noah, who was looking curiously at the cards. He cleared his throat and Noah looked up. “I feel like relationships are very important, very influential, in your life,” Adam tapped the devil card with his finger. “You just got out of a bad relationship,” Adam felt a push at the back of his mind. His eyes landed on one of Henry’s posters, different letters highlighting themselves as his brain looked around the circle of time. W-H-E-L-K. “With a Whelk?”

Noah stiffened. “How did you…” He then seemed to realize he was sitting across from someone who claimed to know the future and trailed off, rubbing his arm.

Adam continued, “it was very bad, he…” It was Adam’s turn to trail off. The devil represented so many things but to Adam it would always represent his relationship with his father. Adam eyed a scar on Noah’s left cheek, “He hit you,” Noah winced at his words remembering what being with Whelk had been like. He tried not to think about it. “I’m sorry,” Adam said. Even though he hated it, himself when people said that to him. What use does apologizing do if you can’t help? Adam promised himself he’d try to help Noah, by being there for him. He barely knew the boy but he had a feeling they’d become good friends. “So you got out of it and you,” His eyes flicked to the Nine of Cups, “you’re having trouble getting him to forget you. Or getting over him. Noah you have to forget about him.” Adam’s voice sounded harsher than he meant it too. “Sorry I just-”

“It’s fine,’ Noah whispered and he looked up from the cards to Adam. He pulled his hands out of his lap and rested them on the desk, Adam saw that they were shaking a bit. “He -Whelk he’s been following me around. He won’t let me go, and I don’t really have any friends left to go to anymore” Noah’s voice had taken on a weaker quality, less like an overenthusiastic little brother and more like a kicked dog.

Adam reached across the desk and tapped the knuckles of Noah’s right hand twice. “You can come to me now Noah,” Noah frowned a little, and Adam realized he might think he’d said it out of pity. Adam detested pity. He reached for a way to explain that it wasn’t “I don’t have many friends either and I like you,” he laughed at himself and locked eyes with Noah. “It's not pity,” Noah smiled. “Any way, you can’t let Whelk get to you if you want the last card to come true. You have to push through.” He tapped the Three of Cups, the happiest card in the spread. “If you make it through, you’ll be happy. You’ll find more friends. You can celebrate. Things are going to look up.” Adam was smiling now and he looked up to see Noah was smiling too.


	2. Strawberry Flavored Milk Is Gross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My attempt at banter, based off argument my sister and I used to have in second grade. Again, feedback is greatly appreciated! Hope you like it!

“Adam, I can’t believe you’re even arguing with me on this,” Noah said gesturing wildly with his pizza “I’m obviously the right one here!” he twisted around in the seat, making a squeaking sound as his skin rubbed against the red vinyl. He gestured with his hand without pizza in it for their waitress, Blue, who when she’d taken their drink orders had scoffed at Noah’s request for strawberry-flavored milk. It was then that Adam and Noah’s argument had started.

More specifically, it had started when their drinks had arrived and Adam, after taking a sip of his water and watching Noah take on overly dramatic sip of his milk had said “How can you even drink that? It taste like creamy cough medicine,” Noah had then gone on to rant about how strawberry milk did not taste like medicine. 

Blue stomped over in her 70’s style waitress uniform that came with working at Nino’s, along with smelling like greasy pizza and serving hungover college students. Adam let out a small gasp when she reached their table. She always made things so loud. Suddenly Adam knew that she would side with him and that she was glad they called her away from the jerks at table twenty five and that Noah was happy to be having such a meaningless argument.

A few weeks ago, when Adam and Noah had first discovered Nino’s and the feisty waitress who worked there he’d been hit with the same wave of loudness, anyone in a three-foot radius’ energy’s jumping out at him. The headache he’d gotten had lasted for three hours and Adam had decided he was never going to Nino’s again. Of course that didn’t end up happening. Noah dragged him to the place every chance he got. He knew Blue didn’t mean to do it, maybe didn’t even know she did, but 

“What stupid argument are y’all havin’ now?” Blue said, her accent that was so similar to Adam’s repressed one dripping off her tongue like honey. Adam had a feeling that she was from West Virgina too, though he knew she lived with her family somewhere in the city.

“Adam says that strawberry milk tastes like medicine and that its not worth drinking!” She rolled her eyes even though she was smiling. Noah fake pouted at them. “Ple-ase correct him,” he whined at her and Blue pretended to think for a moment, tapping her finger against her jaw. Noah took a sip of milk.

“Sorry Noah I gotta side with Adam on this one. Strawberry milk is gross,” She said and reached out to ruffle his hair. He swatted her hand away and threw his pizza down onto the plate.

“This is outrageous!” Noah tried to feign hurt but he was laughing too much, his smile was too wide. Thanks to Blue, Adam could feel the happiness coming off Noah. Noah hadn’t been this happy since Adam met him. That was one of the reasons he allowed himself to be dragged to Nino’s nearly every day. Blue made Noah happy.

Adam turned toward Blue, “You should really hang out with us. Ya’ know, outside of work,” he said. Noah was beaming and nodding as if he’d never thought of that before. Blue had an odd look on her face. She twisted one of the many rings around her fingers as she thought. A nervous habit she’d developed freshman year of college. She hadn’t really made many friends since her family had moved here after she graduated from high school. Thinking that none would be as good as her old friends, that she would never get that kind of connection again. Her kind of friendship was usually more than most people expected. Blue did not make “casual friends”, but the longer she spent away from her old friends, the more they grew apart. They continued on with their lives and Blue realized she probably should have made more friends when she first moved here instead of stubbornly thinking she couldn’t care about anyone the way she’d cared for her friends back in Virginia. By now she was resigned to her life as a loner, but she didn’t like it all that much. 

Adam could tell that Blue was hesitant, by both her strong energy and the look on her face. Her face relaxed then and Adam’s thoughts started tugging on his hope that she’d say yes until he realized that was exactly what she was going to do. He smiled.

"Sure thing,” she answered and Noah nearly jumped out of the booth in excitement. “When? Where?” Blue resisted the urge to add ‘Why?’ and tilted her head to the side as she waited for an answer.

"We could just hang out in Adam and I’s dorm, or-,” Noah started excitedly but Blue interrupted him, looking confused.

“Since when are you two roomin’ together? I thought you were with Cheng?” That last part was directed at Adam, he opened his mouth to explain, but Noah beat him to it.

“Oh well, Henry moved in with the vancouver crowd, ya’ know that big old house on Wellbrook and Channairy, so I transferred to Adam’s room,” Noah explained while Adam nodded along.

“Noah’s a great roommate,” He added and Noah made a gesture like ‘oh, sush’. Blue let out a laugh. 

“Kay, so I’ll come over to your dorm to hang out. Where are you?”

"We’re in building two, second floor. I think you’ll be able to tell which room just by the amount of glitter Noah put on the door,” Adam said, sending Noah a look.

“Hey! Your lucky I could only find silver in bulk,” he said and pointed a finger at blue, “either way our door is the one that looks amazing,” 

“Okay then Noah, I’ve got to get back to those jackasses at table twenty five is i wanna keep my job,” she said and walked away from their table.

“So… I was right. Strawberry milk is gross,” Adam started and Noah huffed and got up from the table.

"Come to our room with three things or strawberry syrup and maybe I’ll forgive you,” he said with narrowed eyes and started out of the restaurant. Adam sighed. He didn’t feel like going yet, but he also didn’t like it when Noah walked home alone. He carefully counted out the amount the pizza would be and then counted out a tip for blue and put it on the table before going out after Noah.


	3. Foxway Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Gansey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I don't exactly like how this turned out but whatever. I hope you all like it. Also I messed up the plot a bit in chapter 2 but it'll be fine, if not as smooth. Feedback is still nice!

Blue Sargent had one rule for shared bathrooms: never assume anything. Having shared a bathroom with god knows how many woman back in the house that was not small, but too small for the amount of people it held back in Henrietta was what led her to make that rule, and she’d lived by it ever since. Even if she was only sharing the truly too small bathroom with her mother and two ‘aunts’, Psychics, who after telling fortunes as a hobbie had decided they wanted a shop in the city had packed up and taken blue with them. Despite her protest.

The shop itself was actually quite a success, though instead of pulling in tourist they had regular customers looking for herbs, candles, stones, a quick card pull to see how an interview would go and the likes, and good amount of their profit came from curious college students. Today Blue stood at the register watching the fairly new regular, a man who was wearing a blue scarf that his wife had apparently made for him, shifted through a box of rose quartz. Her eyes left the man and went to the small window, the purple neon sign twisted into the shape of “Foxway Magic” in cursive was turned off but would probably need to be turned on in a half hour. The sun was already edging below the short skyline. 

Through the window Blue saw a boy, who looked about her age wearing a bright lime green polo shirt walk across the street to inspect the window, then move toward the door and out of her view, presumably to read the instruction on how to get a reading. She made a mental note to tell Adam and Noah about his horrendous choice in colors. Lately they’d been getting less traffic from college students which worried Bule a bit. It hadn’t made a huge dent in their profit but it was still worrying.

The regular stopped his shifting, having found a rose quartz about the size of his thumb that he was fond of and walked up to Blue. He didn't say anything through the whole process of ringing it up except for a quiet “Thank you” when she handed him the small bag. 

The bell rang as he exited the store and waved goodbye. Blue gave him a small wave back and went back to staring out the window. It was a very slow day. Blue looked at the staircase that lead to the second floor where she lived with her family. She could practically see where she’d left a book she’d been itching to start on the bedside table. She could probably leave to get in and be back in a minute… Blue made her way toward the stairs.

Gansey looked through the small window that looked into the shop. It was cluttered with a sign and a small display, but he was tall enough to see over it. A strangely dressed girl was at the register, looking placidly at a man who was looking through something Gansey couldn’t see. He inspected the sign closer. “Foxway Magic” wasn’t very specific, though he could assume it had something to do with “magic”. A topic that Gansey had grown more interested in lately.

He took a step back from the shop and inspected the light blue walls of the small house-like structure. Next to the door was a poster that looked like it might have information on it. His next destination then. Printed on black paper with white ink was, “If you want a quick reading, come in, you may or may not get one! If you want to schedule a longer reading, come in!”. The instructions were fairly simple, but Gansey was a bit distressed. He much preferred to do these thing over the phone.

The door opened then, jostling him. “So sorry, I didn’t see you there!” cried a man. Gansey replied with a small “no worries,” and watched as the man, probably in his late thirties who was wearing a blue scarf left. Gansey hear the faint ring of a bell from the other side of the door as it closed. He should go inside. Gansey nodded to himself and prepared to face the strangely-dressed girl behind the register. He pulled open the black door, sounding the small bell attached to to. His eyes performed a quick scan of the shop. 

The register was in the back right corner. In front of the register was shelves of herbs on half on the right wall and books on the rest of the shelves. In front of the shelves was a display/container or different stones with signs telling you what they helped with. In the middle of the room was a circular table, surrounded by a mix-match of different chairs, probably where the readings were done. In the left back corner was a spiral staircase leading up, with a small chain across it to prevent people from walking up. The rest of the left side was occupied by candles of all colors and sizes on shelves, and closest to the window was a medium-sized rectangular table full of different decks of tarot and oracle cards. Gansey made his way to the register and realized as he was halfway there that the girl no longer stood behind it. He looked around the shop. He walked the rest of the way to the register.

Blue was happy with her choice to retrieve the book about tropical birds as she made her way back down the stairs. She was still happy with her choice as she started to undo the chain on the stairway. She only became unhappy with her choice when she saw the boy in an atrociously colored polo shirt -and boat shoes, Boat shoes! Waiting at the register. She had no reason to be mad at him, it wasn’t his fault he’d decided to come in to Foxway Magic the one time she was away from the register. Alas, she still had to fight the urge to glare at him, and maybe throw her book at him.

The chain across the stairway rattled as she quickly redid it, hurrying to her station. “So sorry,” she mumbled and flashed the book in his direction as she shuffled behind the counter. “It’s been a slow day,” The boy nodded.

Gansey had the distinct impression that the girl who had just appeared at the stairs, dressed in black high-waisted shorts with pink fishnets underneath, lavender combat boots, and a hot pink tank top that was visible through her black shredded shirt did not like him. Which was, admittedly odd. Gansey liked to think himself fairly charming, had been called just that many times by family friends or random politicians. He brushed the feeling off and returned the girl’s smile. As she rushed past him and behind the counter.

“I wanted to see about a reading?” He asked in his most polite tone.

“A short one or a long one?” Blue asked pulling out her phone to either text the group chat labeled “Psychic calls” in order to secure one of the three psychics for a quick reading or to add a longer one to the calendar. 

“What's the difference?” Gansey asked. Blue started to roll her eyes the stopped herself.

“A longer one would go into more depth, if there is an important question you need answered, or if you what to know how the year will go for you. A short one is basically you pull a card and get an answer,” The boy across the counter still looked confused. Blue sighed. “I’ll put you down for a longer one; That will last either thirty minutes of an hour.” 

Gansey nodded. In truth he wasn’t really looking for an actual reading. He was more interested in the process. Though he supposed a reading would be helpful in he wanted to know if these people were real. Before now he’d nearly forgotten that fake phycis were a thing. “Is there anything open next 

“Let me see… there are openings at eight pm and three pm,” Blue informed him. Gansey considered for a moment. Ronan was more likely to be free at eight.

“Put me down for eight,” he said.

“Name?” Blue asked, her fingers hovering above the keyboard.

“Gansey,” Gansey answered.

“Just Gansey?” she asked.

“That's all there is,” the boy in the horribly colored polo answered, apparently named Just Gansey. Then he turned around and made his way out of the shop. Blue though that was a little pretentious but didn’t let it bother her to much. She was going to hang out with Adam and Noah tonight and could let it bother her then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see the allusion to the book? *nudge nudge* *wink wink*


	4. Song Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I now this is short, but it is meant to be (I think). I'm going to do a series of shorter chapters focused on different character, so you can get a better feel of what the AU is like... hopefully, that's what I end up doing. Please read the notes at the end too if you want to know a little more about what's gonna happen.

Adam Parrish, like most psychics, first saw the future in a dream, and like most psychics, he dismissed it as an odd occurrence that the dream came true. The first time he saw future it was about something trivial, he'd dreamt that they'd run out of milk. They did, but Adam didn’t think much of it. 

Adam, like most psychics, saw the future, for the second time in another dream. He’d had a bad feeling all day, and he went to bed with that bad feeling. He dreamt of disorientation and then blackness and then light and more disorientation, of seeing bruises in the mirror and being unable to hear in one ear.

He woke up in a cold sweat, and stumbled out of bed, used the shower that never had any cold water left and biked to school with his hands still trembling slightly. He went through the day at school jumpy and nervous, or more jumpy and nervous than normal. Only his shift at the garage calmed him down a bit, but his unease skyrocketed when he returned to the trailer and saw that his father’s truck was pulled into the drive and that his mother was crying in the kitchen.

Robert Parrish lurched out of his chair and pulled Adam outside by his collar, all the while whisper-shouting what a disappointment of a son he was and how he and Adam's mother gave him everything but they should have just left him on some rich person’s doorstep because then Adam wouldn’t have had to work as hard to become friends with those rich bastards. Adam’s head hit the railing and he couldn't hear. He couldn’t hear and get up get up get up.

It was only after when Adam was looking at himself in the mirror in his tiny apartment above the church that he realized the bruises were in the exact same places as they were in his dream, and that he’d seen the mirror and the low ceilings of this place before. In his dream. That was the moment, Adam standing in front of a mirror in his shitty apartment above the church trying to figure out how to pay the bills for the simi-fixing of his broken body, that he realized he had dreamed the future, and that he could feel that this moment, this shitty moment of realization was a turning point for him.

Adam had tried to find out what triggered the dreams, the feelings, the flashes of remembering the future of someone else's past. Sometimes he could feel energy surging around him. Strong in certain places. The abandoned and broken down church, an overgrown and forgotten garden on the edge of town, a coffee house with people who somehow always got your order perfect, a tree in the park with impossible flowers, a convenience store that some whispered was haunted. It took Adam a while to figure out that these places were all going in a line, and that the soft song he could sometimes hear in both ears was coming from that line. He deemed it a song line, and after some research, he realized that these energy lines crisscrossed over the entire globe. 

He was in an antique shop when he found his first deck of cards and heard them whispering meanings and events and advice to him. He found the small book that went with them and bought both items on impulse. Something Adam Parrish did not do often. It was the only way he knew how to see the future on purpose. He wanted to learn more. The card told him he was a magician, that he knew how things connected and how things went together, and how to bring things together. That there would be something he would have to bring together, later.

He was hungry for knowledge about the magical, but he couldn’t find much information where he was, and he put it off for a later date. Something to figure out after he got out of this town. He explored his own limits as best he could but he was waiting till someone could teach him. Make this wild thing less unknowable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yea Adam's psychic origins... kinda. I hope you enjoyed. I think the next chapter will be Gansey, then (maybe) Persephone (I already did a Blue-centric chapter kinda, so I don't think she needs and more elaboration), then Ronan (maybe). (i won't do a Noah or Whelk one because their situation is already kind of explained? or I might elaborate more later on in the story. I will do one on them if it is requested. (I'll do anything if it's requested tbh)) 
> 
> Anyways I hope you all enjoyed!


	5. Ley Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea. The Gansey-centric chapter! After this is a small ploty one and then Ronan.

Richard Gansey the Third, if asked about his interest in magic at this moment at one of his mom’s various functions, would first inform the questioners that he preferred to be called just Gansey. Then, at least one person would make the tired joke of saying “okay, Just Gansey,” and everyone would politely laugh even if they didn’t find it remotely funny. After the polite laughter everyone’s minds would return to the question and Gansey would tell them it was a topic he was recently interested in, and what do you know about ley lines? Everyone would then, quite begrudgingly, admit that they know nothing whatsoever about ley lines. The young Gansey would then go on an acceptably charming and short rant about the topic, leaving the questioners wanting to know more.

 

Every now and then, a clever eye would see just a little more than curiosity in Gansey’s rant and would ask how the boy came to be interested in ley lines. Gansey would tell a small made-up tale about how he experienced some odd activities on what he later learned was a ley line and then was grasped with a thirst to know more. This made-up tale would feel inadequate to the questioners but they would all accept it as truth. Gansey would be in silent relief that that clever eye did not once again catch his lies and continue to roam about the function, gently holding the stem of a champagne glass. Thinking about the real reason he was ‘so suddenly’ interested in the topic.

 

For years, Gasey has been friends with a Ronan Lynch. For five months, Gansey has know that Ronan Lynch has certain qualities. Magical qualities. Magical qualities that could destroy and create worlds and life. Magical qualities that seemed to have no power source, until three months ago, when Gansey started researching ley lines. Throughout these five mouths, Gansey has also been in college. So has Ronan but that's a different story entirely. A college that, coincidentally, is near a ley line. If his calculations are correct. 

 

Richard Gansey the Third does not believe in coincidences. This happened for a reason unbeknownst to him. Which is why, (just) Gansey has an appointment at Foxway Magic, a small psychic shop that, Gansey later learned also has a small line of teas with quite mixed reviews.

 

Gansey at this moment in the circle that is time, has already done all the things above and is currently sipping from the champagne glass whose stem he gingerly holds and is looking out at the crowd of one of his mother’s functions. This function is a political one, which means 1) lots of hand shaking, 2) lots of polite smiling, and 3) Gansey would rather not be here. He hopes that he can get away with just standing next to the elaborate buffet sipping champagne and having the occasional conversation with someone whose political views he disagrees with. 

 

This hope is shattered by Helen Gansey, who floats by and gives him a look. A look that means “if you stand there for longer than five minutes people will think you are an antisocial college student and mother will not be pleased.” Gansey responds with a look of his own that means “well, at least I didn’t get mother a wooden plate for her birthday.” Helen gives him another look that means both, “that was years ago,” and “just do it you ass,” at the same time so Gansey rolls his eyes, something that means “ugh, fine,” and leaves his post at the buffet, all the while internally cursing Ronan for not coming with him.

 

Not that Ronan Lynch didn't have his reasons for not coming, Mrs. Gansey’s functions were “the boringest shit ever, I’m not going to one of those,” and “you know Declan is gonna fucking be there.” But, in Gansey’s opinion, friends should suffer together, so he had rights to internal cursing. So, Gansey left his post and is now counting the seconds until this endeavor will end.

 

Three minutes until the function is over, and Mr. Gansey, Gansey’s father, apparently needing an escape too, drags Gansey into the garage. They have a conversation that they have had many times before, but not in an irritating way, in which Mr. Gansey tries to convince his son to take a different car instead of the orange monstrosity of a Camaro that his son insists on driving. They laugh and when they return to the function it is only cleaners and caterers. Both Mr. Gansey and his son breathe a sigh of relief and go their separate ways. Mr. Gansey to his study, and Gansey to say goodbye to his sister and mother before climbing into the orange monstrosity of a car to drive home. 

 

Approximately eighteen miles from Monmouth, the old warehouse Gansey and Ronan live in, the pig (aka the orange monstrosity of a Camaro) breaks down. Gansey climbs out of the car and surveys his surroundings. He has broken down right in front of a convenience store and it seems that there is nothing else in the immediate area, excusing the college he goes to that is around nineteen miles away. His cell phone isn't working, but it never does on this stretch of road, one of the reasons Gansey is confident they are near a ley line.

 

Gansey has never been in this convenience store, though he passes it everyday he goes to school. It seems to him that the person working inside is his best option of getting home right now. Or the landline inside, but Gansey isn’t sure how far the radio silence goes so maybe not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeeep. Tell me what you think! Feedback is my life.


	6. Phycic Parrish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness, I actually really don't like this chapter, but I hope that if I can get it out of the way I can pull through. I might just give up on the fic tbh. Probably not though. I have a plan that I like but ya' know. 
> 
> Also, Yes all my chapters will be of inconsistent length.

Adam Parrish awoke on Saturday morning and wanted more than anything to roll back over and go to sleep, but he hauled himself out of the bed. Noah’s empty bed was a reminder that he’d gone to visit his sisters and Adam allowed himself groan. No Noah meant two things: 1) No one to keep Tad Carruthers away from him while at the dinner and 2) No energetic presence around the dorm, nearly as bad as 1, but as Adam Parrish had lived without an energetic presence for a long time it wasn’t too bad. Mostly he just missed Noah. Adam shuffled through his morning routine and then went off to his various jobs. 

 

A list of Adam Parrish’s jobs in chronological order:   
-A barista at the campus coffee shop  
-Far too many shifts at the dinner with Tad Carruthers bothering him  
-A mechanic   
-Cashier at a convenience store he is (pretty) sure is located on a ley line

 

The only enjoyable thing about his first job was that Blue worked there too and they laughed at the sad sighs people let out when they saw that their name was misspelled.

 

“You’ll never believe what I saw yesterday at work,” she said, and Adam leveled a look at her.

 

“Apparently, I won’t believe anything you tell me,” he started. Blue began at least a this of her sentences with “You'll never believe” or “You’ll never guess,” something Adam was fond of even if he teased her about it.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well there was this boy and he was wearing an obnoxiously lime green polo shirt and boat shoes. Boat shoes Adam!” Adam didn’t really see what was so horrible about it but he nodded along anyway. He didn't know where Blue worked and she seemed hesitant about telling him. He had a feeling (a psychic kind of feeling) that it was important but he wouldn't push her.

 

The only thing enjoyable about his second job was that Scarlet was finally fired and that a little girl complemented Adam on "how blue his eyes were," something that made him smile as he told her he liked how brown her’s were. The rest was enduring Tad Carruthers' endless flirting, something Adam was sad to say he was very skilled at. The only thing unenjoyable about this job at the garage was all the snotty customers, otherwise, he actually liked that job.

 

By the time Adam's drove out to the oddly located convenience store he was exhausted. You'd think that, because of the store's odd placement that it wouldn't get much business, but cars have the uncanny ability to always run out of gas or break down right in front of the store. Adam is half sure he's fixed more cars here than at the garage. The convenience store is also rests on a patch of odd radio silence. No electronics that require a signal work, and because the owner is either stubborn or just did not anticipate the problem, there is no landline. 

 

He took up his station at the register with a paperback in hand. He heard the stuttering of an approaching car and saw the reflection of a very orange thing in the glass of the refrigerator. He turned toward the road and saw nothing. The stuttering continued, along with a very faint ‘damn it’ that he wouldn't have heard if he wasn’t hearing the sounds in both his ears, an easy way to tell it was a flash of the future. A more eccentric version of his accent reached his ears “could I use your phone? My car has broken down…”

Adam sighed and rolled up the sleeves of the coveralls he didn’t bother to change out of. He grabbed his small tool box out from under the counter and walked out from behind the counter just as the sounds he’d heard moments before came again, but more faintly, as he could only hear out of one ear now. The stuttering stopped and he pushed open the door to see a boy who looked about his age wearing, strangely enough, a suit, and standing in front of a startlingly orange Camaro. 

The boy was unmistakingly wealthy, with the suit and the eccentric car and voice like old money. He jumped a bit when he saw Adam walk out of the store, but recovered quickly and met Adam halfway to the car. “Is there a landline in there?” He tried to get out the beginnings of a ‘Because’ but Adam cut him off. 

 

“I can fix your car if you’d like,” he said and bit his lip when he realized that he’d allowed his accent to come out full force. The boy gave him a politely confused look, one that was obviously practiced. Adam smiled at him and said, this time without the accent “You can hear that thing breaking down from miles away,”

 

If the boy noticed the change in his voice he didn't say anything about it as he smiled back sheepishly and stuck out his hand, “Gansey, proud owner of the car you can hear breaking down miles away,”

 

Adam shook his hand his dry, callused skin meeting Gansey’s soft skin and responded, “Adam Parrish,” and then got to work on the obnoxiously orange car. A car that he felt didn’t belong in the hands of the polite, wealthy and respectable boy who was curiously looking over his shoulder.

Gansey was, to say the least, perplexed by the boy who was currently leaning over the Pig’s engine. His hands were deftly working on it, not that Gansey had any idea what he was doing. Adam had an odd sense of otherness about him. He reminded Gansey of Ronan, though he couldn't pinpoint why exactly. Gansey had the feeling that time was moving a bit faster or slower than it normally did, a feeling he’d begun to chase these past five months. 

 

The feeling was in the oddly twisted tree that grew outside of his father’s property. It was there when he held one of Ronan’s dreams in his hand. It was there when he met certain people. It was in the parking lot of an abandoned grocery store. It was a feeling he loved and hated, because it only lasted for a few seconds before you got used to it and it became just an odd feeling in your stomach or a headache. 

 

Adam had, while Gansey was reflecting on this feeling fixed the car, and was now saying “give it a try and see if it starts,” with his barely-there accent. 

“Yes, of course,” Gansey replied and it was in a voice that held no trace of that heavy old money Virginian accent he sometimes carried with him. If Adam noticed the change he didn’t say anything about it as Gansey climbed into the car and turned the keys in the ignition. The engine came to life and Gansey caught the curls of a smile on Adam’s face out of the corner of his eye. Gansey turned in his seat to thank Adam and found him not smiling, with one hand shoved into his pocket and one out in a half-wave that resembled a solute more than anything else. Gansey copied the action and almost started to drive away. 

“You go to school her, Adam?” He asked, just because the words were in his throat in that moment and they felt like the right thing to say. 

Adam, who had begun to walk away, turned back toward Gansey. An expression the clearly said “why?” On his face as he answered “Harvard,”

Gansey responded with an interested hum “coincidence,” he said.

Adam watched Gansey drive away with the same expression on his face as before, with the notes of the song line pulsing through his feet into his head. Three uneven beats that hazily conveyed importance pumped through his veins before he turned back around to go inside. Picking up his book and waiting for his shift to end.

It was 2:00am and Adam had an hour and thirty minutes before his shift as over. Only two people besides the interesting Gansey at 8:00pm, one a drunk college student looking for beer who bought the last of it, and one a middle aged woman who was already late getting home from a wedding and really appreciated his help with her car. Adam hadn't seen another human since 12:00, which wasn't uncommon during these shifts. Though he’d seen at least five cars pass by and not a single one broke down. A new record.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea I know that sucked, I hope I can scrap up a better written chapter for the next one. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are what I feed of off, so don't let me starve!
> 
> Love you! Thanks for reading!


	7. Nameless Boys and Stores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooooooo! A new chapter! I'm glad I had the time, I hope you guys like it!

It was 2:00am and Gansey sat on the floor on his apartment/warehouse with dried glue on his fingers and a new pale blue building added to his collection of them on the floor. His miniature model of town was both familiar and unfamiliar. Familiar because he had long ago lost count of the number of nights he’d spent with cardboard and glue and paint and hard wooden floors. Unfamiliar because it was a new town and a new cold, hardwood floor and because there was another person. Not another person participating in the building of the tiny town, but just another body plagued with insomnia in the room.

 

Ronan Lynch lounged against the side of Gansey’s bed with a raven resting on his bent knee as he watched Gansey carefully paint pieces of cardboard and then carefully glue them together and then carefully place them on the floor. 

 

The reason Gansey was up at 2:00am on a Saturday (well, technically Sunday): He’d never fallen asleep. After some homework and dinner, Gansey had changed into his sleep clothes at 11:00pm and laid down to sleep. Then, after thirty minutes of counting sheep and progressive muscle relaxation (two things that could sometimes get him to sleep), he sat up with a frustrated sigh and shoved his glasses onto his face where they now rested crookedly. The thing about insomnia was that even if you really wanted, needed, to go to sleep, you couldn’t. After years of it, insomnia was basically routine at this point.So now, at 2:00am Gansey makes additions to his cardboard town.

 

The reason Ronan was up at 2:00am on a Saturday (well, technically Sunday): He woke up drenched in dream blood -that he was sure if tested would come up as his father’s. His dead father’s blood. Dreams were a slippery and complicated thing for Ronan. Sometimes he was the king, things he wanted appearing in his hands as easily as they probably had for his father. Other times he was the cockroach, and all he could do was hope to not get destroyed by his own mind. Tonight was one of the later. He took a shower and then slumped against Gansey’s bed.

 

Gansey wrestled with a piece of cardboard, trying to use his dull scissors to cut it into the correct shape. Ronan sighed. Chainsaw kerahed. He moved to stand up and she hopped off his knee and flew to his shoulder. Gansey turned his ear toward Ronan, the rest of him still focused on the task at hand. 

 

“I need a drink,” Ronan proclaimed and started toward the door,

 

Gansey only sighed. So Ronan Lynch stomped loudly down Monmouth’s rickety wooden staircase and threw open the door to his car. Chainsaw flew into the car and proceeded to peck at all the buttons on the radio. Country, pop, country, country, EDM, indie, country, country, rock, country. Ronan waved his hand in front of her beak “fuck off,” he mumbled. She ‘kerahed’ at him. He rolled his eyes at her and started speeding toward the closest liquor store halfway down the road, the BMW started slowing down.

 

One thing to know about the BMW: it was Ronan’s Father’s car, which is to say it was a dream car. As a dream car, the BMW had a few odd things about it. Like going faster than it should be able to in street races, or never slipping on ice, or magically not needing snow chains. Or slowing down in front of a barely visible, beaten-down convenience store on the side of the road. 

 

“The fuck?” Ronan exclaimed.

 

The store was old. Very old. At least it looked that way. The place where the name used to be was faded so that it just looked like a line of light red on a white background with a couple of what might be letters. There were no outside lights -why Ronan hadn’t seen it -and no visible cameras. It seemed, to Ronan that this would be a great place to get murdered. All that was missing now was the murderer. 

 

He pulled the BMW as far into the parking lot as he could until it stopped moving completely. Then slid the gear shift into park, just in case. He opened the door and Chainsaw flew out, making a quick circle above him before landing in his shoulder. Ronan slammed the door closed. Well, he wouldn't call it slamming, but it was. He wouldn’t call half the things he did slamming/storming/stomping/yelling, but they were. Ronan was loud in a way he didn’t consider loud, just as he was quiet in ways he didn’t consider quiet. The first he got from his father, the second from his mother.

 

*

 

Adam Parrish sat in the lonely interior of the store, whose name had been lost long ago. The door to the store was opened and the ringing of the old bell on the door was accompanied by the thud of combat boots and the flapping of… Feathers? Adam looked up from his book to see an empty doorway. He sighed at himself. How many times could that happen in one night? He squinted at the black windows from his seat behind the register.

 

A nearly invisible glossy black BMW was being wrestled into the store’s parking lot. Adam huffed a laugh to himself. It was a nice car. But even nice cars broke down in front of the store at 2:00am, when there were fewer witnesses for the odd events that went on. He scraped the stool away from the counter and shuffled toward the door. As he opened it a boy fell out of the car, followed by a crow. No, a raven. Adam kicked the doorstop into place so more light would spill out of the store. When he looked up at the boy when this task was finished, he found the boy already looking at him. 

 

*

 

Ronan’s prophesied murderer appeared in the form of a dusty-haired boy in a T-shirt and jeans kicking a door stop between the gravel and the worn down metal frame of the door. The boy looked up, he was tall and thin with dark bags under his eyes and freckles everywhere else. Ronan had always liked freckles when he was little it was because he couldn’t get them himself and because they looked like stars.

 

“I’ll take a look at it if you want,” he said, eyeing Chainsaw but looking otherwise unphased. Ronan briefly wondered how he knew the car had broken down but decided that people probably didn’t come here if their car wasn’t broken down. 

 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he shot back. And really. There shouldn’t be anything wrong with it. It was a dream car. It never broke down.

 

“The position you’re in begs to differ,” Freckles said dryly.

 

Ronan changed his phrasing, “There shouldn’t be anything wrong with it.”

 

The boy hummed, “Well, I said I’d look at it if you want, and you obviously don’t want me to look at it so...” He retreated back into the well-light store, only to return second later with a stool in hand. He shut the door to the store and put the stool next to it.

 

“Umm,” the boy had sat down on the stool, a book in hand. Ronan squinted at the boy’s shirt, looking for a name-tag or other form of identification. Freckles it was then.

 

“I don’t want you to be outside by yourself,” he paused,”and I think you’ll change your mind about the car.” 

 

Ronan huffed and opened the passenger door of the car to sit down. “One, I can take care of my-fucking-self. Two, now that you’ve challenged me, I’ll be here all night,” the boy looked back down at his book. Ronan looked around aimlessly. He had nothing to do, nothing to entertain himself with. Chainsaw picked at his fingers where they laid limply in his lap. An hour passed. He leaned back and tried the keys. Chainsaw hopped/flew off his lap, landing in front of Freckles. She pecked at his shoe laces. Ronan turned the keys and nothing happened. Nothing, no sputtering, no purr of the engine, nothing. Ronan frown and sat back up, pulling the keys with him. Freckles was looking down at Chainsaw but looked up when he felt Ronan’s eyes on him.

 

“You can take a fucking look at the car,” he muttered. Freckles hopped off the stool, careful of Chainsaw, and smiled at Ronan as he walked to the hood of the car. Ronan rolled his eyes.

 

*

 

Adam poked around the engine, trying to locate the problem so he could fix it. An easy task that was oddly difficult. The boy and his car gave him an odd, not necessarily bad, but odd vibe. Like how Blue gave him one, or the owner of the monstrously orange Camaro, or Henery. The boy stood a good distance away, but still tracked Adam’s hands as they poked around.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with your car?” Adam turned around to face the boy, who had a shaved head with black clothes and a complexion that matched the rich brown of the trees that lined the old road the store was located on. He was very attractive.

 

“What do you mean there’s nothing wrong? The fucking thing won’t start,” The boy growled.

 

Adam knew why it wouldn’t start. It was late at night and he could feel the thrumming of the song ley lines sang in the souls of his feet and this boy and his car gave off an odd vibe. He couldn't really say that. Well, he could, but he doubted it would go over well. Adam dragged a hand down his face.

 

“Just wait ten minutes and it will start,” the words came out of Adam’s mouth before he made the choice to say them, but he knew they were true. The boy shot him a confused and frustrated look but sat back down in the passenger seat of the car, humming a song. Adam retreated to his stool.

 

For a moment the boy’s humming sounded like the song that was already pulsing through Adam’s body. But then it turned back into whatever song he'd been humming before and Adam was left with the question of whether he'd imagined it or not and what it meant.

 

*

 

Ronan was very perplexed. First the car, then the boy, the this: ten minutes passed and Ronan tried the keys again. The car purred to life as it normally did. No problems. Freckles looked up, a faint smile on his face at Ronan’s expression, then picked up his things and walked back inside.

 

Ronan didn’t really want to drive away, but he didn’t think this boy was any of his business. So he drove back to Monmouth. Gansey was tapping something out on his laptop at his desk, steam curling up from a mug that was very carefully placed on a coaster after every sip, no doubt because Gansey’s mother her drilled the habit into him.

 

“That took longer than expected,” he said to the computer screen.

 

“Yea, well the BMW fucking broke down for no reason,”

 

Gansey swiveled his chair toward Ronan’s hostile silhouette. “It what?”

 

“It broke down halfway to town for no reason,” Ronan sat down on the bed to take off his boots.

 

“Where did it break down?”

 

“Why does it matter?” Ronan looked up at Gansey. “That shitty convenience store.”

 

“Huh,” Gansey turned his chair back toward the computer. Finishing a sentence.

 

“Huh what?”

 

“Oh, it’s just that -hold on,” Gansey pushed the period key proudly before pushing the chair away from the desk with his feet. It slide across the floor toward Ronan. “It's just that I broke down there earlier today,” Gansey brushed his thumb over his lower lip.

 

“Coincidence,” Ronan said, because it wasn’t.

 

“Yes, and the boy -Adam I think it was, came out and fixed the Camaro,” He explained.

 

“No shit,” Ronan muttered, flinging his shoes into his bedroom. “I think he helped me too. Dusty hair, lots of freckles (super attractive)?” Gansey noded. “Huh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, kudos and comments are a l w a y s appreciated. I n e e d the feedback. Also thank you @lovelysandlonelys for editing


	8. Author's Note / Discontinued

Hey... Yea, basically I'm not really into this anymore. I still like the idea but I'm not really happy with what I've written for it. So, the plan right now is to put it on the back burner, finish some other fics and then completely re-do this one, but that might change. I can't make any promises that this will ever be finished or re-done. I contemplated completely deleting it and not telling my plans, but I suppose I'll leave this up until further notice. Thanks!


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